


The Void

by hemingwaysgirl



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Anxiety Disorder, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Depressed Steve Rogers, Depression, Dissociation, Drabble, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Gen, Headaches & Migraines, Heavy Angst, Hiding Medical Issues, How Do I Tag, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, Insecure Steve Rogers, Male Friendship, Medical Conditions, Medical Inaccuracies, Mental Health Issues, Mystery, Panic Attacks, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Seizures, Sick Character, Sick Steve Rogers, Sickfic, Sort Of, Steve Rogers Angst, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Has Issues, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Super Soldier Serum, Suspense, Sweet Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Whump, Work In Progress, Worried Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-19
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14371524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemingwaysgirl/pseuds/hemingwaysgirl
Summary: Steve would soon find that underneath the bluster, Tony Stark was observant and selfless. (As much as he hated to admit it, Natasha’s account of Tony’s narcissistic and reckless behavior had colored his perception of the billionaire.) He just never imagined that the famous engineer would be the first and only one to break through his iron-clad mask.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I sat down at my computer to work on my other fanfic, “Beacon of Hope,” and this happened. It started out as a drabble, but then my muse developed it into something resembling an actual plot.

_Everything special about you came from a bottle._ Hearing those words propelled like knives from the mouth of Howard Stark’s son implemented what Steve already knew. Steve Rogers did not matter. Without the serum, he was nothing.

 

Once he transformed into Captain America, Steve Rogers slowly crumbled away as the world fell into chaos. The innocent needed an impenetrable force – a symbol of hope that defeated evil and stood for good. Stevie – the boy who wore his heart on his sleeve – was no longer important or necessary.

 

Captain America never faltered. He never complained. Headaches and feelings of disorientation plagued him on and off the field, but he remained calm and reassuring. He was a pillar of strength when tragedy rose from the fields of destruction. He always held his head and shield high – never allowing an ounce of weakness seep into his features on the battlefield. The shield was his only constant companion, because a soldier had no time to contemplate selfish feelings such as loneliness.

 

The super soldier serum had stripped Steve of any chance of having a normal life. He was no longer his own person – he owed his life to the country who created him. He couldn't let his fellow Americans down. So, when he discovered that the serum only intensified his frayed nerves as well as the frequency of his migraines, he kept it a secret. He couldn't allow anyone to find out how broken he was on the inside.

 

No one ever suspected a thing. Not even Bucky. And, at first, their ignorance caused an indescribable ache in his heart. After a while though, the hurt simmered down, leaving a slight twinge in his gut. He learned to separate himself from the endless spiral of negative feelings. He functioned primarily on autopilot.

 

When his anxiety consumed every thought and action, Steve learned to disconnect. He allowed the world to drift out of focus, obscuring his sense of reality. It was like watching the world through a faulty television set. He allowed the sensation to completely numb him. Sure, he went through the motions – he laughed, gave speeches, fought bad guys, and spent time with the Howling Commandos.

 

Sometimes, his facade slipped, and he would suffer through days of paralyzing migraines and anxiety until he had no choice but to float back into the void. And again, no one noticed.

 

So, when he moved to the Avenger's tower shortly after the Chitauri incident, he expected the same result. He had every reason to believe that he could hide his fragile mental state from his teammates.

 

However, he would soon find that underneath the bluster, Tony Stark was observant and selfless. (As much as he hated to admit it, Natasha’s account of Tony’s narcissistic and reckless behavior had colored his perception of the billionaire.) He never imagined that the famous engineer would be the first and only one to break through Steve’s iron-clad mask.


	2. Chapter 2

The day started out as Mondays generally do. Steve slept through his alarm, so he missed his morning run. By the time he clambered into the Avenger’s common room, his internal clock informed him that it was midday. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he closed his eyes, trying to swallow down the irrational panic.

 

He needed the endorphin rush that only running could give him. He needed to escape from the ever-present fear if only for a little while.

 

Gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, he pulled harshly, the pain overriding the ever-present headache and anxiety. He sighed as the pleasure center of his brain sparked to life. He opened his glazed eyes, distancing himself from any remaining negative feeling.

 

Lightening flashed, and Steve’s vision faded into white.

 

_Bombs littered the ground with debris and blood - their terrible  explosions painting the grass black and red._

_Bodies and ashes covered the earth - scattered among the green blades like dead autumn leaves. Bodies of his men - bodies of fathers, brothers, uncles, and nephews who will never return home._

 

_One soldier had his head turned toward him, eyes wide and vacant, and so damn young_ _. Steve dug his fingers into the dirt beneath him and then peered at his hands - he stared transfixed at the crimson blood staining his palms. He was too late._

 

_Bucky - he had to find Bucky. He had to know whether he was alive or not. He had to keep him safe. He had to protect the only family he had left._

 

The next time he was aware of his surroundings, he was huddled behind Tony’s workbench, his body wrapped protectively around the billionaire. He heard panicked muttering and as his mind snapped online, he realized the incoherent babbling originated from his own mouth. He could still see Bucky in his mind’s eye, lying prone and still beneath him, his arm blown to bits. He was never fast enough to save the ones who mattered the most. And now, he had no one.

 

“Jesus, Steve, let me up! It’s 2012. The war is over,” Tony demanded, his voice ragged and slightly high with hysteria.

 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Steve croaked. He sat up quickly, using his hands to steady himself when the world tilted precariously. White-hot agony spread through his head and right forearm. The pain grounded him, pulling him fully back to the present. “Did I hurt you?” Nausea overwhelmed him, and he swallowed down the bile threatening to spill between his lips.

 

Tony studied Steve’s rumpled state. He had never seen him look so vulnerable. The sight helped him steady his swirling emotions. “No, but I need to check you over. You pretty much tackled me as soon as I gave Jarvis permission to let you in here. And I was using a welding torch. I turned it off as quickly as I could, but I’m pretty sure it burned you.”

 

“Oh,” Steve grunted. “I’m fine,” he continued automatically. His voice sounded weird and distant. Darkness was encroaching on his vision - a silent void threatening to envelop him.

 

Steve startled when he felt Tony’s arms wrap around his waist, one hand snaking up to guide his head toward his chest. The arc reactor hummed pleasantly in his ear - and he shivered as his cold skin greedily absorbed the warmth. Tony spoke in a soft, reassuring tone - the sound vibrating soothingly against his cheek.

 

“Stay with me, Cap. You are safe right now. You’re in the present, not the past. Concentrate on my heartbeat. It’s real. It’s familiar. You’re okay.”

 

Steve clung desperately to each word. Eventually, he returned fully to awareness with a gasp. For the first time in months, he found himself completely in touch with reality. However, this realization wasn’t as painful as it once was. The normally crippling anxiety had dimmed into a tiny flickering flame. Maybe it had to do with the billionaire’s presence - he just didn’t have the desire to escape anymore.

 

“You with me, Cap?” Tony murmured softly, taking in slow, careful breaths that Steve instinctively copied.

 

“Mmmm… Yeah, I’m - I’m here. Just Steve,” he slurred. “Mom called me Stevie. Miss it.”

 

“I didn’t know. You never said anything, and I just…” Tony visibly hesitated. “I didn’t know,” he finished lamely.

 

“You were afraid I’d call you out on it. Use the informality as a weapon against you. Demand you call me Captain Rogers.”

 

Tony coughed to cover his choke of surprise. “Something like that.”

 

Steve felt warm, secure. Words tumbled from his lips almost against his will, running together in a barely distinguishable stream.

 

“Never liked being addressed as ‘Captain Rogers.’ Made me think of my dad.”

 

“Wasn’t he a captain in the first war? Dad used to say he had “the perfect combination of bravery and stubbornness that ultimately made him a true hero.’” Tony paused, awkwardly clearing his throat. “Dad was a big history buff, so I guess he read up on your old man.”

 

Steve shuddered.”Yeah, he was honorably discharged and sent home with the Purple Heart - along with several other medals. But the war changed him - unhinged him. My mom never let on to anyone. Everyone assumed we were all fine. We learned to handle the flashbacks and drunken outbursts. But in the end, we weren’t enough to stop his downward spiral.”

 

Steve swallowed hard, stiffening in Tony’s embrace. “I wasn’t enough.” He untangled himself from Tony’s comforting grip, scrambling backwards and using his hands to scoot away from the bench. He collided with Dum-E who chirped in alarm and wheeled closer to his creator.

 

Tony opened his mouth to reply, but upon studying Steve’s waxy complexion, the words immediately froze in his throat. Steve inhaled sharply, curling up on his side and moaning pitifully as he clutched his head. His taut muscles appeared to contract painfully, and he remained still for a few seconds before spasms began rocking his bulky frame. Tony crawled quickly to Steve’s side, lifting his head and placing it on his lap.

 

“Oh no… Oh Shit! Jarvis, call Bruce!”  

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now presenting chapter 3! I apologize for any medical inaccuracies. All my info is based on light internet research. If anyone has any advice on how anything can be improved, let me know. :) Enjoy!

Tony Stark fumbled for words - his usually adept mind struggling to form a coherent thought. He rarely found himself unable to interpret and adequately respond to intriguing data. The billionaire could usually maintain a sense of objectiveness as he focused on analyzing the significant details and giving possible solutions to any problems presented.

 

 

But today was a different story. His world had tilted on its axis as soon as Bruce had evaluated Steve (using Tony’s recently acquired portable CT scanner) and shared his findings. The normally timid doctor had caught Tony as he swayed on his feet and forcefully sat him down on the old, ratty couch.

 

 

As the team doctor, Bruce had learned to remain calm and objective in order to adequately treat whichever avenger needed his services, but the stoic physicist’s composure had wavered slightly - his eyes flooding with a hint of green - as Tony had described Steve’s fragile emotional state and how he had gripped his head before the convulsions had hit. A scan of the brain was the obvious first step.

 

 

The anomaly stood out among the darker spots of Steve's brain. He had not expected one of his hunches to be right, even though he had mentally listed this as a possible diagnosis. (Okay, he had expected it, but he had hoped he was wrong.) He pulled in a deep breath to keep the Other Guy at bay as he stared at the white mass shining brightly along Steve’s temporal lobe.

 

 

Tony finally spoke, his voice strained and uncharacteristically timid, obviously failing to maintain its normal air of indifference. “Are you sure, Bruce? Maybe it's just scar tissue from a previous injury. You know that hard head of his has been knocked around quite a few times. Concussions can cause emotional instability as well.”

 

 

“We’ll have to do a few more tests to be sure, but I’d say it’s highly unlikely given the shape of the mass.” Bruce paused, studying Tony’s crestfallen expression. “The increased anxiety and fearfulness, along with the confusion, derealization, memory loss, headaches, and seizure, all make sense given the legion we saw on his temporal lobe. Now, if we were dealing with an unenhanced patient, I’d agree with you, but in Steve’s case, the serum would easily heal the damaged area in a matter of hours or days, given the extent of the injury.”

 

 

“Okay, well, what exactly are you thinking, Doc?” Tony demanded.

 

 

“I believe the serum’s healing factor may be the root cause of all of this.” Tony raised his eyebrow skeptically, opening his mouth to no doubt tell him how stupid he was being. Bruce quickly interrupted him.

 

 

“Here me out, Tones. I have two theories. One, every time Steve gets hurt, new cells are produced to replace the damaged ones. However, as we both know, Steve has had several concussions, probably more than any of us. If the cells keep reproducing and dividing without a semblance of control, trying to heal damaged cells over and over, naturally, cancer can occur.” He paused, giving Tony a chance to dispute him, but Tony just waved his hands impatiently, signaling for him to continue.

 

 

“My other theory is that the tumor was there before the serum was injected, and instead of the cancerous cells being replaced with healthy ones, something went wrong, and they were replicated, causing the pre-existing tumor to grow.”

 

 

“That makes sense, I guess,” Tony grudgingly admitted, his eyes dropping to the floor. The engineer was clearly too emotionally and physically exhausted to say anything else.

 

 

“What makes sense, Mr. Stark?” a hoarse voice croaked from his prone position on Tony’s cot. Tony stiffened.

 

 

“Call me Tony, Steve. I thought that was implied after our little chat earlier.”

 

 

Steve squinted in Tony’s general direction and frowned, shaking his head and grimacing in obvious pain. “I don’t understand. Where am I? Were we captured? Howard, what’s going on?”

 

 

Bruce inhaled sharply and muttered a few choice expletives as he exhaled.

 

 

Tony chuckled bitterly. “My thoughts exactly, Brucie Bear.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please leave kudos! Also, comment and let me know what you think. :)


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